The Necromancer Chronicles Willow Book One: Their Arms Is Death
by LightsPast
Summary: One half of the Necromancer Chronicles told from the perspectives of Willow and Hadrian- twins, allies, necromancers. Hadrian and Willow Eurynomos were orphaned in the first wizarding war and desperate to bring their parents back they turn to the dark art of necromancy and seek the aid of Harry Potter. This is Willow's side of the story, visit Azreal1313 for Hadrian's.
1. Prologue Accidental Magic

Prologue: Accidental Magic

"Ring around the rosy"

"Pockets full of posy"

Two young children almost identical with raven black hair and violet eyes, danced in a circle their small hands were clasped as they spun chanting the nursery rhyme.

"Ashes, ashes"

"We all fall down"

The children flew apart as their hands unclenched. At a glance the pair were identical the only difference being the short hair of the child giggling on the left and the shoulder length locks of the child who had flown left. If you knew the children you would know that they were in fact twins, identical in every way except one was a boy and one a girl. Hadrian and Willow Eurynomos, orphans of the Voldemort conflict. They remembered that night; even though they were just babes they remembered hearing that Voldemort killed their parents. Ever since they lived in Abeyance magical orphanage. They were strange children, Hadrian found dead things, birds mice squirrels waited for them to rot and then strung the bones together with wire and fashioned them into a form of twisted marionette his celling was hung with each one turning and twisting in a sick mockery of life. Willow was just as strange her walls were covered in runes, glyphs, words, and scratches that just appeared in her mind; she kept candles blazing at all hours of the night and could not stand any shadows to the point of ripping off her closet door and sleeping on the floor. The darkness was coming for her she whispered. Her brother kept the dead to fight it off all she had were her runes and her candles.

Hadrian found a baby robin dead from its fall out of the nest. It was too young to die he decided and so he willed it back to life. He clapped his small hands together and laughed with glee as it opened its eyes and flew away. He did not notice that the grass around him had turned brown and died curling upon itself as life drained from it, that the tree before him had it' leaves curl and brown as it died, that the den of mice in the tree's roots tiny hearts ceased to beat, that everything in three meters of him and the robin was dead and grey. He didn't care he had mastered death, he had beat it, he would bring back his parents.

Willow watched her brother she saw the necromancy he performed, felt the power that came from taking and giving life. She wanted more, that night she slept with no candles after all it was too late the darkness had already claimed her for its own.

**Hey, Miki here, from this point on Willow and Hadrian's stories will be told separately, visit s/9324732/1/The-Necromancer-Chronicles-Hadrian-Boo k-One-Darkness-Rising for Hadrian's perspective as written by Azreal1313**


	2. 1 - The Mistress of the House of Books

_Beneath the moonlight glints a tiny fragment of silver, a fraction of a line..._

_(black robes, falling)_

_...blood spills out in litres, and someone screams a word_

_ooooooooooooooooooooo_

"Time to go, Willow!" Hadrian calls from outside the door. "Okay, just a minute please," I reply, rooting through the shelf of items. Every possession I own sits on a shelf. I cannot stand the wardrobe, the bed, the shadows they cast and I had burned those years ago. Now all I had were my shelves. And my candles. Finally finding the small black candle I had been searching for, I put it in my pocket with the other waxy cylinders. They are my protection. Away from my runes, they keep me safe. "Willow!" calls Hadrian impatiently. "Coming," I whisper as the word resonates in my mind. _Safe._

_oooooooooooooooooooo_

After visiting Gringotts, Hadrian and I separated and as he turned in the direction of the Apothecary, I headed towards Flourish and Blotts. Working through the crowds of fussing mothers, rabid eleven year olds and various screaming children was even harder a task than it had appeared at first glance, and I clutched the small anise-scented candle to my chest. Imagining the small protective circle of its magic calmed me enough that I managed to get into the bookstore before I let out a pulse of accidental magic to blast away all those _people._ I had always been touchy about the presence of others; I preferred only my own or Hadrian's company.

The beaming witch at the counter jumped up and bustled over. "Hello dearie! Hogwarts first year, I take it? Would you like some assistance to find your school books? Where are your parents?" I automatically flinched away from her touch, her insensitive manner of questioning. As she had gone through the war, surely she knew better than to ask after the parents of a child my age.

I looked up and fixed her with a silent violet gaze. What she saw frightened her; I saw her gulp and visibly deflate. "I'll be fine, thank you, Madame," I whispered. She hurriedly returned to the counter. Happily alone, I consulted the booklist. Apparently Hadrian and I, as first years, required:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_

_A History of Magic_

_Magical Theory_

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_

_One Thousand and One Magical Herbs and Fungi_

_Magical Drafts and Potions_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_

I wrinkled my nose as I considered the titles on the parchment. Obviously, I was going to have to use my initiative. I trawled through the shelves, looking. Along the way, I grabbed a basket and chucked two copies of each required text into it. I then considered my options. Either I could keep looking here, or I could pay for what I had and find a different book shop. I quickly decided on the second option. Being a well-known store with a reputation to uphold, Flourish and Blotts was highly unlikely to have any of the kinds of books my brother and I were interested in. I counted out the galleons for the trembling witch and exited the store.

Out in the open once again, I stared at the milling crowds. I stood observing for a couple of minutes before noticing a small side street which was passed by without a second glance. _Perfect._ This time I let myself get carried along by the flow of people until I got to the entrance. Once down the alley I looked around speculatively. The tops of the buildings leant uncertainly towards the centre of the street, leaving only a small strip of azure sky and a mere sliver of sunlight. I hastily relit my candle, suddenly glad that anise also repelled evil. Water drips echoed down the deserted cobble stones, moss crept in the corners. Shaking off the strange aura, I pulled my shoulders back and walked with more confidence, pretending to be much older than eleven.

It was hard to make out the signs on the shopfronts, but I spied a dusty stack of books through a window, and make out the faded words _House of Books_ over hieroglyph symbols so I walked in.

There was no cheery bell jingle like in Flourish and Blotts, no gleaming shelves, no cheery witch at the counter. Instead, there were books. Thousands upon thousands of books of every size, shape, colour and description, all of them stacked in precarious piles, rising far above my head to the ceiling. Some teetered, wobbling in an alarming fashion. Others flew through the air, changing piles, reordering and restacking themselves. "_Cool,_" I breathed, tipping my head back.

"I'm glad you approve, Miss . . .?" A voice carried over the stacks, strangely lilting and oddly accented.

"I am Willow Eurynomos," I replied politely, bowing my head, before twitching in surprise. It was rare enough for me to voluntarily give my first name to a stranger, let alone my surname.

A woman with dark hair and deeply tanned skin came into my view. "Miss Eurynomos. Interesting name. Greek, is it not? I am Seshat, Mistress of the House of Books."

Egyptian name, I noted. Mistress of the House of Books . . . the phrase rings a bell somewhere in my head, but I can't quite recall. Seshat regarded me with unsettlingly dark eyes. She wore a ragged dress of leopard skin, but moved as though it were pure silk.

"Are you searching for a particular text?" She asks, her eyes never moving from my face as she wound past book piles.

"Umm, not really," I mumble, suddenly disconcerted and shy.

"Very well." With that she broke her gaze and strode back out of sight. I blinked. Okay then. Blowing out my candle, I moved through the stacks. "Just grab whatever feels right!" Seshat called from somewhere in the shop.

_Whatever feels right . . .? _Dubiously, I moved towards a pile and reached out a finger to brush the spines. My finger tingled and I pried out a heavy tome bound in deep blue. There is no title. Instinct kicks in and I warily sniffed the book. The faint odour of rain wafted off it, but nothing else. Seems fine, I reasoned. So I open it.

A gust of wind blew my tangled black hair off my shoulders, the sharp scent of autumn lingered in the air. The book whispers to me. _Come, _it sings, _read me, read the secrets contained here and you will know all about the winds of the world. Come to me . . . _Hot terror shoots down my spine and I threw the book as far I can, trying, _needing, _to get that voice away.

A throaty, amused laugh echoed throughout the store. It's Seshat. "What's so funny?" I demand, trembling. "One of your books just tried to compel me!"

But she only laughed harder, tears of mirth spilling from her deep russet eyes. When she can finally stand straight, wiping her cheeks, I glare at her and she explains.

"It wasn't trying to compel you, Miss Eurynomos, it simply wants to be read. Reeyah is desperate to be sold, it's been here for decades and hasn't been read in centuries."

"But it spoke to me!" I insisted, shock overcoming my natural shyness around strangers.

She just smiled mysteriously. "Perhaps you are not the right person for Reeyah, then." She muses. "Keep looking, then." And she disappears again.

Not quite trusting her, I dig through the pouch in my pocket and pull out a blackberry vine, wrapping it around my wrist. In the absence of a wand and finding candles inappropriate in certain situations, I turned to plant magic. With my own twist, of course. No other user of natura incantamenta uses death magic as well, to my knowledge. The magics of life and death, you would expect them not to work well together. So I added death. The tiny corpses of butterflies hang from the vine. They keep me safe. My brother has his bones. I have my runes, my candles and my plants.

I turned my attention back to the books. Looking through every book in every pile would take too long. I needed a faster way. Pulling a peppermint candle and a box of muggle matches from my pocket, I begin the summoning ritual Hadrian created. Placing the candle on a waist high stack of tomes and lighting it, I breathe in the sharp scent of mint. I pull a silver dagger from a hidden sheath and carve a string of symbols into my forearms. I let the blood drip down and put out the flame. The cuts heal over almost immediately. Crimson smoke spirals up to the ceiling. I blow it outwards.

A swarm of books separates themselves from the stacks and flies at me from every which direction, before landing with a thump at my feet. A wave of dizziness washes through me and I ease myself into a sitting position. Without a wand any kind of magic is draining as I have nothing to channel my power through, and blood rituals require a massive amount of energy as it is.

Pulling the first book towards me, I notice what highly resembles old blood stains on the front, so when I open it, I'm not surprised to see the title _Dumah Diguues: Ancient Blood Rituals of Lost Cities._ I put that to my left. The next book I grab appears to be about obscure potions. Intrigued, I flick through it but I'm disappointed. They're all useless, probably the reason they aren't widely known. I place that book to my right.

I continue this way, placing the good books to my left, the useless ones to the right. Soon I'd amassed a rather . . ._ interesting _collection of books not usually read by eleven year olds.

I stood, stretching out the stiffness you get from sitting on the floor for extended periods of time and pick up my stack of books. I can't tell the time from inside, but I'm pretty sure I've been in here quite a while and it wouldn't do to keep Hadrian waiting. "Seshat?" I called out, looking around for the owner, but I couldn't see her.

"Ahh, finished browsing have you Miss Eurynomos?" comes the elegant reply from behind me.

Slowly I turned, thanking any divine beings that may exist that I hadn't jumped. It would just be _too undignified_ for a scion of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Eurynomos to react that way. "I have finished, I wish to purchase my goods now," I reply, retreating into formality as I always do when uncomfortable.

"Of course," her eyes dance with merriment at my stiffness, "But first, I have something for you." She holds out a small tome bound in faded dusk-coloured leather. A shiver runs through the air and I feel my eyes glaze over with the sheer power. I take it reverently. The title is swirling silver scrollwork that read _Sé Æðelflæd ærgestréon áglæccræft sylfum Bealucwealm_. "The Most Ancient Art of Death," I breathe in wonder, "Where did you get this?! All of the copies were supposed to have been burned!"

She just smirks. "A lady must never tell all her secrets, yes Miss Eurynomos?" And when I reach for my money pouch she smiles. "Consider it a gift, from me to you. In fact, I'll give you a discount, you need only pay nine galleons for the lot."

I gaped before composing myself. She was _giving away_ a copy of The Art, a priceless rarity, and selling me two dozen obscure books for a mere nine galleons? There had to be a catch somewhere. But, then again. . . "The book has chosen you Miss Eurynomos, and I'm afraid it will no longer accept any other owner, even me." She said. As if she knew my thoughts.

I gave her the coins and she shrunk the books for me. I bow deeply in gratitude and thank her. "No need to thank me," she laughs and I hurry out the door before she can change her mind about the books.

_ooooooooooooooooooooooo_

Back on the main street of Diagon Alley I contemplated where to go next. I search up and down before my eye catches on a bright shop. _Feliciellos's Familiars_. Exactly what I need. I make my way into the shop and as soon as I pass the threshold I am overwhelmed by the sheer _animal_ of the store. I see birds and dogs and cats and snakes and rats and rabbits, but a single sweeping glance tells me no animal I see is to be my familiar.

"Buongiorno, signorina. Come posso aiutarLa oggi?" Says the young man at the counter.

"Gradirei guardare alla sua scorta esclusiva," I reply in flawless Italian.

"Ah, bellissima signorina. Have you been to Italy before?" He asks curiously, leading me through the door behind the counter to the backrooms. I reply simply, "No, I just have too much time on my hands," to which he laughs. I do not.

In the back rooms are the rarer stocks. The ones they don't want just any spoilt pureblood buying. The ones with magical powers beyond what you could ever dream. One of which I just knew would be my familiar.

"Take a look around, signorina, see if anyone takes your fancy," the Italian wizard sweeps his arm around the room to encompass all the various creatures, then retreats back to the counter, politely closing the door behind him. I'm glad he did. After all, it wouldn't do to alienate the son of the store's owner because Italians really don't like blood magic.

I pull my dagger back out, and three tiny red candles. I light the second candle, then the first and then the third. Crouching down, I make a small cut on my arm and use the blood to draw a circle on the ground which I place the candles inside. I then draw five basic runes around the outer edges of the circle. I take a deep breath and wait. The third candle flickers out. I wait. The second candle flickers out. The flame of the first remains strong. My familiar indeed awaits me here.

I cleared the blood and candles away and pray Hadrian never finds out I used two blood rituals in less than an hour. I turn to the left of the store and my eye instantly falls on a kitten, pure white aside from its black tipped tail and deep green eyes, like emeralds. I hold out my hand, the one with the cut.

She watches me with an unfathomable gaze, then finally extends a tiny pink tongue to lick away the tear of blood on my wrist. I feel a shiver run through my body into the earth and suddenly it's as though all this time I have been deaf and blind and mute and suddenly I can see and hear and speak. The white of the feline's fur stains over, rusted red, and the bond is sealed. Marked by blood, we are now witch and familiar.

"Hmm, what should your name be?" I ask my new familiar. "Oh, I know! How about Aminon!" I swear, if she had eyebrows, she would be raising one right now. "Come on, don't give me that look, Aminon is the Gatekeeper of the Underworld in Ossetian mythology!" She considers it, then finally gives a purr of approval.

I smile and we walk back out to the main store together. "Found a keeper I see," smiles the wizard. I smile hesitantly back. "Yes, this is Aminon."

"That'll be six galleons and eight sickles, please," he says and I hand over the money, then exit the store. As I'm leaving I hear him muttering "Strange, I could have sworn that cat was white." I smirk, and Aminon does too.

Scooping my familiar up in my arms, I start heading to Ollivanders. Time to get a wand.

_ooooooooooooooooooo_

**Remember to visit Azreal1313 at u/4699833/Azreal1313 for Hadrian's perspective! (Also, sorry if the Italian isn't right, I'm a beginner)**

**Please review! Laters, Miki. **


	3. 2- The Sorting

'_Walk always in the shadow, and light and darkness both will follow' . . ._

The moment Hadrian and I walk into Ollivanders, I feel the magic singing against my skin. I shiver in delight and awe, gazing up at the shelves upon shelves of wands. The magic in them called like a Siren song, intoxicating, beautiful. The light in Hadrian's eyes, however, is not from all the power in the air, as he is drawn more towards the spirit realm then the ethereal planes. Hadrian craved a wand, that conduit which will fully allow him to access his magic, power beyond that of runes and rituals, blood, plants, candles, chants and bones. His magical core.

Dust dances and twirls in the wan sunlight that struggles through the windows, but the magic is bright enough to make me look past the grime. Aminon curls around my neck and purrs a question in my ear. I nod back, she settles down and I absentmindedly stroke her head.

Lost in thoughts, I barely manage not to startle when a pale man appears ghost like from between the shelves. "Ah yes, Hadrian and Willow Eurynomos, I was expecting you." He almost sighs, his eyes grave. I know that he is thinking of the ones who came before us. Our parents. My guess is confirmed as he continues, "your parents came to me for their first wands as well, it's how they met you know."

He pulls some boxes off the shelves." Your father's, Lignum Vitae 11'3/4 dragon heartstring hard, but not brittle. Your mother's blood wood 11 inches dragon heartstring flexible yet not bendy. I never forget a wand, nor who I sold it to." I add the description of my parents' wands to the few memories of them that remain in my mind.

He handed a wand to both of us each. "Here, Ash and unicorn hair," he says, and I swish it, but it spits angry sparks. "No, no, no!" He cries happily, as though excited. "Here, Hawthorne with dragon heartstring, wave it a bit." The wand heats up rapidly in my hand, burning me and I drop it hastily. "Hazel and unicorn, perhaps?" I wave the wand and I wince at the loud shattering of glass as the store window explodes. Ollivander hands me another wand, "phoenix and mistletoe" and it flings itself from my hand as I raise it. I look over at Hadrian, who seems to be having even less luck than I, as the wand he holds explodes ash over himself and Ollivander.

Suddenly the old wand-maker's moon like eyes gleam and he jumps and says, "I know just the wands for you two, one of Ebony and one of African Blackwood, both 11.5 inches and the wands are twins. They share a core, thestral hair. Not one of my primary cores, oh no, one has to be far too attuned to death far too...dark but powerful, very powerful."

I gently grasped the long deep purple wood he handed me and under my fingers I felt carvings of a willow tree pattern etch themselves. I raised the wand and waved, and violet sparks tinged with black flew into the air and they entwined with those from Hadrian's wand, black sparks tinged with violet, and I smile at the warmth in my chest. Now, I am complete.

The days blurred as the season changed, and slowly our departure grew closer and closer. We were to be leaving soon and Hadrian had finally decided to pack. I had begun the process of moving the contents of my room into my trunk the day we had returned from Diagon Alley and so all my possessions were neatly put away already, my trunk warded and spelled and my room empty except for said trunk, which sat alone in the centre of the small room. I had just returned from wandering the small forest near the orphanage, gathering my plants and flowers, since I didn't know where at Hogwarts I could find the flora I needed.

"Willow!" I hear my name called along with other eleven year olds, and we file down stairs, luggage in tow, including Hadrian with Sphinx, his undead familiar, in a carrier. Aminon had point blank refused to get in one and so she was curled around my neck, her favourite position. One by one we went through the floo, calling "Platform Nine and Three Quarters!" and throwing the green powder on the flames.

As soon as I stepped onto the platform I could sense the magics running through the ground and walls, flowing in lines and twisting into runes, like an infinite ribbon. It is a barrier, a safety measure. "Warded," I whisper, reaching out to touch the stones reverently, and Hadrian turns to me.

Together, we walk towards the scarlet steam train, pulling our heavy trunks on board. Slowly we progress up the train and Hadrian strides ahead while I stop to peer into a couple of compartments. I spy an older girl twisting her face into different forms for the amusement of her Hufflepuff friends. Metamorphamagus , I thought enviously then continued on. At one point we pass Harry Potter and Hadrian stops for half a second in contemplation, but we pass the Potter Heir by as his allegiance is a mystery to us. In the end, we find an empty compartment and settle down for the ride.

Immediately I pull out a stack of books, namely The Most Ancient Art of Death, and begin to read through the heavy tome, making notes in the margin in violet ink, alongside the many hued transcripts of previous owners. The book is fascinating, speaking of many rituals and spell that were believed lost to the ages. I am working my way through the 'Rites and Incantations for the Summoning of a Darke Spirit' section when there is a bang and I look up in surprise, as does Hadrian. The door flew open to reveal a startled witch with a lot of bushy brown hair.

The look on her face changes to a terrified surprise. "O-oh I'm s-s-so s-sorry I didn't t-think anybody was in here" she squeaked. She remained awkwardly in the door way, not knowing whether to stay or go so I took the opportunity to examine her. Her muggle clothing said she was almost certainly muggle-born, as did her uncertain posture and lack of familiar. I took careful note of the possessive way she gripped her wand, the faint lines around her eyes that spoke of many nights spent reading in half-light. Most likely a Ravenclaw, I decided, until she spoke again.

"Ohmygodyoureyesarepurple!" She practically squeals at my brother. _Okay, make that Gryffindor_, I amend, not bothering to answer her as I know Hadrian will.

"Yes and so are my sister's, I'm Hadrian and my sister is Willow, of house Eurynomos," he says

"Hermione Granger," is her reply, backing up my estimation of her heritage. She turns and runs out of the compartment, blushing crimson with embarrassment. I would almost feel sorry for her, but . . ."Ohmygodwehavepurpleeyes" I snorted, adding air quotes and Hadrian laughs. I mean, really? Lots of pureblood Light families have yellow eyes, werewolves's are amber, Harry Potter's are killing curse green, the entire Weasley clan have bright red hair, the Malfoys are so blonde their hair is almost silver and she's surprised by purple eyes? I shrug and return to reading.

The rest of the trip passes by in a comfortable silence, though once I do look up to see Hermione Granger and a chubby boy stop outside our compartment, and the boy reached for the handle before she hastily tugged him away, looking vaguely frightened. I smirked.

At last we arrived at the station, and we gathered by an exceptionally large man named Hagrid, who lead us towards the first years' boats.

We wound our way down a narrow path surrounded by darkness, and I was tempted to light a candle, but I didn't know how well Hagrid would take it, and anyhow the moon was a silvery orb in the sky, even with the thick clouds.

The path suddenly opened out to the edge of the massive lake, mist curling off the mirrored surface, and the other students all "Oooooh!" at the sight of the castle perched regally against the star spangled sky. Against my will I almost feel awed, but a quick glance shows that Hadrian is completely unaffected.

Suddenly there is a mad scramble to get into the boats and we are separated in the crush. I reach out helplessly but Hadrian quickly vanishes from sight and I am forced to get into a boat without him. I panic slightly at being alone in such an unfamiliar setting before sternly reminding myself to get a grip. After all, it's not like my brother and I are always together. In fact we are both quite solitary people, used to being alone. I use this thought to comfort me as I wait in the empty boat, before two identical dark eyed Indian girls approach me shyly. "May we please accompany you?" asks the softer-faced twin nervously.

I smile hesitantly. "Of course," I reply and she beams back. Her twin, a little sharper eyed, more wary, simply nods at me. They climb in, as does a narrow-faced boy with floppy brown hair, who doesn't bother to ask as the girls did. He sits on the far side of the boat, gazing out over the water with an affected bored expression and proceeds to ignore us as the boat sails over the waters.

"My name is Willow Eurynomos, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance," I bow my head politely.

"Padma Patil, and this is my sister Parvati, likewise," says the sharp girl formally. _Patil_, I ponder the name. _Doesn't ring a bell, well they're not Death Eater fledglings then._ Satisfied that they are fine, I smile properly.

"You know," I say conversationally, "I have a twin too, a brother. His name is Hadrian." Padma looks less wary now. I think she is convinced I am not in any way threatening. _The thought is almost amusing._

The smiley twin, _Parvati, _I remember, turns to the boy and says brightly, "How about you? What's your name?" He sniffs, but replies. "Theodore Nott." He sneers. I feel my body stiffen.

"_Nott. . ." _I am unaware that I had spoken aloud 'til he turns towards me and says "Yeah, you got a _problem _with that?"

_He doesn't know,_ I realize. _He doesn't know what his parents did, what they did to . . ._ I force myself to keep still and not attack him in mindless fury. _The sins of the parent are not the fault of the child,_ I remind myself. It is what I must always tell my mind in order not to _kill_.

Parvati seems oblivious to the very tension in the small craft, but Padma has picked up on it obviously from her sharp glances, even if she does not understand it. _Ravenclaw, _I muse, _or perhaps Slytherin. . . . _

I decide that is an excellent way to change the subject. "So, what houses do you hope to be in?"

"Gryffindor!" answers Parvati immediately and Padma rolls her eyes amusedly. "Maybe Ravenclaw, I guess," she shrugs. "You?"

"Slytherin," I answer quietly, not sure of their reactions. Nott gives a loud, disparaging snort. "As if!" he mutters.

"You really want to be in Slytherin?" asks Padma thoughtfully. "But isn't Slytherin supposed to be full of Dark wizards and witches?"

I frown. "I believe not in the darkness or lightness of a spell, but the intent behind it," Best to begin carefully. "'_Walk always in the shadow, and light and darkness both will follow'"_ I quote. "Intent is what really makes a spell dark or light. For example, if I see someone suffering horrifically and they beg me for death and I use avada kedavra on them, is that truly evil? Compared to someone using the same spell with only the thought to slaughter and cause pain, I do not think it is evil. But that is just my interpretation." I smile.

Parvati seems a little uncertain but I can practically see the wheels turning in Padma's head, and Nott looks calculating. I have no more time to assess the impact of my words because at that moment Hagrid calls out to us to duck and we are busy avoiding being hit in the face by grabbing vines of ivy. Well, at least the others are, and I am pulling off as much as I can and stuffing it in my pouch as we pass by. We emerge into a long dark tunnel. At the end we walk up another passage, emerging on dark grass in the dwarfing shadow of the castle itself, Hogwarts.

Once in the castle, we meet with Professor McGonagall, who escorts us to a small room next to the Great Hall. She proceeds to inform us of the house system, but I ignore her in favour of finding Hadrian in the crowd. However I can't see him anywhere. _"Aminon," _I whisper, attempting inconspicuous, _"Do you see Hadrian or Sphinx?" _But before she has a chance to reply, someone taps me on the shoulder. "Willow!" says a familiar voice, and I whirl around.

"Hadrian!" I exclaim, then continue more quietly, "Where were you, I couldn't find you _anywhere!_"

He grimaces. "I got stuck in a boat with Parkinson and that Malfoy bastard's son!" he scowls. "I used the spirits to make me unseen, though, so it wasn't completely awful."

I give a sympathetic smile. "I met another pair of twins, Parvati and Padma Patil. They seemed nice. But Theodore Nott was in my boat as well." Hadrian's expression darkens, as I knew it would. Hadrian is not quite as willing to forgive as I am.

We slip into a comfortable silence, ignoring the shrieks as a bevy of ghosts burst through the walls. Professor McGonagall returns and snaps at us to form a line and follow her. Hadrian takes the lead and I follow him as we walk back out into the entrance hall and through the great double doors into the Great Hall.

I gasp in amazement at the sight before me. Thousands of candles suspended in mid-air cast flickering light over the pale faces of students at the four long house tables. Above their heads the ceiling seems to just open up to the night sky, midnight velvet scattered with diamonds, and even though I know it's an illusion I still marvel. The amount of magic worked into this room alone is astounding and I find a sudden realization that the four founders must have been very, _very_ powerful to build such a school.

We all end up clustered at the front of the hall before a stool, upon which McGonagall places a scruffy black pointed hat. The sorting hat, surrounded in a reddish halo of magic. And then it sings. I am too nervous to concentrate on the lyrics, though all the other first years seem to be paying careful attention. Once it finishes, the rest of the hall bursts into applause and the sharp noise jolts me out of my trance. "When I call your name," the stern Scottish professor says, "You will put on the hat, and sit on the stool to be sorted."

I feel my nerves return full force as the first student steps up. _What if I don't get into Slytherin,_ I panic. _What if. . . what if I'm not in the same house as Hadrian?_ I feel dizzy with nerves, but then a warm furry tail tickles my neck. "What is the matter, Oikeios?" Aminon mews in concern. I still am unsure of the meaning of the name Oikeios, which she has given me, but it pleases her to address me such so I let it go.

"I am afraid," I reply simply.

"Of not being with your brother?" She asks and I nod in reply. "Your fears are unfounded, Oikeios. You are two halves of a whole and a whole cannot be taken apart." Trying not to let myself think that her words really don't make sense if you actually listen to them, I allow myself to be reassured by the warm presence of my red-coated familiar.

And then – "Eurynomos, Hadrian!" calls out McGonagall. I catch my breath and squeeze Hadrian's hand. "Good luck!" I whisper, and he smiles as he makes his way up to the front.

The hat is placed on his head and does not slip over his eyes like it did for so many others, a fact about which he is undoubtedly pleased. He sits for what feels like an eternity, but could have been mere seconds, staring regally forward until the sorting hat opens it's 'mouth' and yells "SLYTHERIN!"

He stands composedly and walks to the cheering green-tied table, turning back for a second to mouth to me _'see you soon' _before sitting a bit apart from Millicent Bulstrode and Vincent Crabbe, the other first year snakes.

"Eurynomos, Willow!"

I freeze for a second. _What if, what if_, runs through my head. When I don't move for a few seconds, Aminon nips at my neck. "Go!" she hisses.

I stride towards the stool, schooling my features into a familiar impassive mask. The hat is placed upon my head. It slips a little and my view is slightly obstructed, for which I am glad. I do not want to see all those faces watching me.

"Miss Eurynomos, now where should we put you?" hums a small voice in my ear. _Oh please, with Hadrian – _"You are intelligent, I see. You adore knowledge, don't you? A worthy Ravenclaw." _No, please, with my brother-_ "But you have more of an interest in using this knowledge, hey? Not simply one to learn for learning's sake, are you. Cunning, wit and you are very polite . . . well versed in the ways of the world, yet still naïve. Fiercely loyal and protective, but only to those who you care for, such as your brother. Not a Hufflepuff, then. " _Slytherin, Slytherin, Slytherin-_ "Slytherin, you say? You could go there, I suppose. A much better fit than Gryffindor, anyway." It laughs at me. I am beginning to get desperate. _Please put me in Slytherin with Hadrian, please- _"Don't worry, dear child! I'm simply playing with you. You are one that Salazar himself would have snatched up immediately, just like your brother. I see your ambitions and desires and I know that the only place for you is. . . SLYTHERIN!" I almost crumpled in relief, but I must maintain my façade, and I simply removed the hat and sauntered over to Slytherin table.

"What took so long?" Hadrian asked even as he grins at me in congratulations. I simply turn to the front and send the priceless artefact a death-glare. "Stupid damn hat," I mutter, and I could have sworn that the hat winked at me as it was lifted up onto the head of 'Finch-Fletchley, Justin.'

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are appreciated and remember to visit Azreal1313 for Hadrian's perspective!**


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